


Evicted

by Huntress69



Category: Reaper (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1228174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress69/pseuds/Huntress69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's not in Hell anymore</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thrown Out

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Spoilers if you haven't seen SPN S1-3  
> 2) Here is a rough synopsis of Reaper: Sam Oliver had his soul sold before he was born. On his twenty-first birthday, Satan came to him, but instead of taking his soul, gave him the job of _Hell's Bounty Hunter_. He has to go after a bunch of evil souls that have escaped and send them back.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, but wish I owned Dean and Sam**

**++++++++++**

Dean Winchester had been thrown out of Hell. 

Yes, he'd made that deal with the _Crossroads Demon_ , his soul in exchange for Sam's life. After his year was up he went without a fight. Fighting would have only ended with Sam's soul forfeit instead. 

When he arrived in Hell, he was told that his _room_ had been taken. The space that Satan himself had reserved for Dean was taken up by an arsonist who had previously escaped the fiery domain. The firebug had been caught and returned by Satan's new bounty hunter...a twenty-one year old slacker named Sam Oliver. According to good old Beelzebub, Sam Oliver was a mortal and worked as a clerk at _The Work Bench_ , Dean's second favorite place to shop, right after _Discount Auto Parts_.

And Satan, it seemed, had enough headaches without having to deal with Dean and the rest of his nutty family and friends, who were trying their damndest to get him back.

Thanks to that idiotic Azazel a whole bunch of souls had escaped the _ninth ring_. Not just the really black souls, minions of Azazel, but also, in the devil's opinion, the slightly tarnished ones: arsonists, rapists, carjackers and a few assorted murderers.

But Satan had Sam Oliver for the latter...and unfortunately Sam's friend Bert Wysocki, or _Sock_ as he was better known. Ben helped also, but Ben at least had some semblance of brains; _Sock_ was a total moron. 

The other ones, the evil things that "Old Yellow Eyes" had released, they were way out of his young bounty hunter's league. They were the ones that the Winchester's had always gone after; the ones that struck "Horror in the hearts of men," that made "Children fear to sleep at night".

"And what about Azazel?" Dean asked warily. "Won't he get out again?"

"Not while I'm in charge," Satan chuckled, nodding to a room down the corridor. 

Dean walked towards it and heard the shrieks. 

Azazel was screaming in agony, begging to be sent to the **thirteenth** ring of Hell. 

It spooked Dean a bit, and he peeked in, needing to know what had the thing screaming in terror. When Dean saw, he understood. 

Numerous television sets surrounded Azazel, all playing the same horrible things - endless showings of _Barney, Teletubbies, Wiggles_ ; viewings of _Gigli, Lady In The Water, Basic Instinct 2, Son Of The Mask_. It was enough to drive a human insane and if Azazel had to endure this for eternity....

Satan shrugged. "You can leave, or you can stay and watch TV with him."

"What about Sammy? The _Crossroads Demon_ said...."

"Don't worry about her. I stripped that bimbo of her powers and got her a job waiting tables at _Chuck E. Cheese_. Oh, and Dean....?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go making any more deals. It's rare for me to say this, in fact, I've **never** said it before." Satan took a deep breath. "I **really** don't want you here."

"I won't." Dean nodded furiously and vanished from Hell.

Satan sighed to himself. There was a good reason he didn't want Dean, or for that matter, Sam, in his domain. Knowing those damned Winchester boys, they'd be running the place in a matter of minutes.

**~~~~~~~~**


	2. The Return Of The Prodigal

Dean found himself in the midst of Route 666. "Figures," he muttered, and began to walk, hoping he could hitch a ride. 

It didn't take long.

Ten minutes later he was in a van with a group of sorority sisters, who were looking at him as if he was a piece of meat. There would have been a time when he would have loved that, but not now. In his final year, Dean had discovered his love for his brother. A deep yearning, beyond lust. Since Sam had never shown any interest in him, or any other man, he had kept his mouth shut. That had been the biggest mistake of his life and he intended to rectify it at the earliest convenience. If Sam turned him down, then so be it. Dean knew that they would **always** be brothers, always love each other. If the love didn't go to the romantic, then so be it. Now all he had to do was figure out where Sam was; the rest would fall into place, just like always.

The women were heading to California, and would be passing through numerous cities and towns along the way. Twenty minutes after picking Dean up, they stopped in Flagstaff for gas and Dean took a walk to stretch his legs. Five minutes later he ran back to the women, thanked them for the ride, gave each of them a tonsil sucking kiss (it was the least he could do) and ran back to the middle of the city. 

There, parked in front of a diner, was one 1967 Chevrolet Impala, midnight black, with Kansas license plate number KAZ 2Y5. It appeared Sam had put the original plate on after Dean left, instead of the Ohio plate they had used after the FBI started chasing them. Dean figured that once he was gone, Sam's name had somehow been cleared. Or maybe Satan had cleared things up. Either way, it didn't matter, because he had found Sam. Entering the diner, he spotted his brother sitting in the back, head buried in a book. Dean casually took a seat opposite him, and smiled. 

"Hi, Sammy."

Sam glanced up from his plate. "Hi, Dean." He took a bite of his biscuit, his brain caught up to the rest of him and he began to choke. "D-D-Dean...." He pointed at his brother. "Ch...Chr...Chri...." That was a far as he got before he began to choke again. 

"Christo," Dean sighed. "See, eyes aren't black. No, I have no powers, can't read minds, no visions and I still like looking," he gave a sly smile to the waitress, motioning her over, "at bleached blondes with fake boobs."

"You're...you're...."

"Got thrown out. I wasn't wanted." Dean pulled Sam's plate over and began to eat his eggs. "Azazel’s being tortured with _Barney the Dinosaur_ and _Sharon Stone_ , and the Crossroads Demon is working at _Chuck E. Cheese_." He called the waitress over. "I want double of whatever he's having, and just leave the pot of coffee."

"I want a drink, a bourbon!" Sam was breathing heavily. 

"Honey, it's only nine in the morning," the waitress told him. 

"Make it a double then."

Dean shook his head. "He doesn't drink."

"I do now!" Sam shot back. "You're dead, burning in Hell for all eternity, you're a ghost and as such, you can't tell me what to do." He nodded, adding a "So there!" as an afterthought.

"Does he take medication?" the waitress asked. 

"Yeah, and he's overdue," Dean told her, watching her walk away. "Sammy, you can't be saying that out loud. People will think you're mental."

"I am mental." Sam was teetering between hysterical laughter and hysterical sobs. "I'm hallucinating, yeah, that's it. I'm doing the psychic thing, seeing dead people."

"Sam, the waitress saw me too."

Sam was **so** trying to find a reason for seeing Dean. "I...I'm projecting my power, so she's seeing dead people also." 

"If that's what you want to believe, Sam, I don't have a problem with it."

"Wonderful." Sam was grinding his teeth. "So... _phantom Dean_ , why are you here?"

"I told you, I was thrown out of Hell. Evicted as the case may be. Satan explained it to me." 

"And what exactly did...Satan...tell you?"

The waitress had come over with the coffee and just stared at Sam as if he were insane.

"We're screenwriters, working on a new...horror film," Dean explained quickly. "A guy comes back from the dead after a few months and...."

She sat down and grinned at him. "I love horror movies. Tell me more."

"See, the guy sold his soul so his younger brother would live," Dean began, "and when his year was up, he willingly went to Hell. Because if he tried to stay, or tried to welch on the deal, his brother would die in his place. But when he got to Hell, Satan explained that he had to leave, that there wasn't any room for him. So he came back."

"Is he a demon or something?" she asked. "The guy who comes back? Does he go see his brother and explain things?"

"That's the scene we were trying out," Dean explained. "See, the younger brother didn't believe it. He didn't realize that the older one could come back. He accused him of being a demon, which wasn't the case." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "And then he explained that they had to fight some major forces of evil that had been freed from the deepest bowels of Hell." 

She was still grinning. "Oh my God, I have **got** to see this movie when it comes out." She heard the _ding_ and got up, "Hold that thought," and went to get his breakfast. She placed the plate before Dean and sat back down. "Okay, keep going. Do the brothers defeat the forces of evil, send them back?" 

"They try," Dean continued, in between forkfuls of food. "The older brother, he was so much in love with the younger, and the first thing he needed to do was tell him that. In his final year, he realized how he felt, but was so afraid of what his brother, not to mention other people, would think." He turned to Sam, a thoughtful smile on his face. "Once he was dead, he realized he'd never get the chance. But now, he's back and he has to come clean. He figured he has one more chance, and this time he's **not** going to fuck it up."

"There's incest too?! I will be first on line to see it." She was grinning even more. "And if I was the younger, I'd be so happy to have my brother back. Once I was sure he wasn't a demon of course."

"That's roughly it," Dean said.

"When you're casting, you might want to consider Chad Michael Murray and Christian Kane. They would be so good in the parts." She stood up. "And do the brothers live happily ever after?"

"We don't know yet," Dean answered her, turning back to Sam. "What do you think?"

Sam looked at his brother. "I think I **really** need a drink."

Dean finished his food, while Sam threw a twenty on the table and shot out of the diner, Dean following. 

"Sam, Christian Kane I know, he was Lindsey on _Angel_. But who's that Chad guy she was talking about?" 

"You can't be my brother," Sam insisted. " _Christo_ or not, you're a demon, I know it."

"Test me."

"I'm sure you have all of Dean's memories."

"Holy water, Sam. Crucifix. Exorcism ritual. Devil's Trap. Shall I go on?" Dean opened the Impala's door. 

"Uh-uh. You...I'm staying at the Villa Motel, about five miles that way." Sam pointed and shoved Dean out of the way. "Meet me there, Room 108. You have my brother's face and I want to know who and what you are." Sam pealed out, the tires screeching as he sped down the street. 

Dean began to walk toward the motel, humming _Back In Black_ and smiling happily to himself. Sam was in for quite a shock. Now all Dean had to do was figure out a way to fuck with Sam's head. It would be his sweet revenge for the way Sam seemed to be driving his baby.

Once Sam was satisfied that Dean was...Dean...he was going to tear Sam's clothes off and fuck him into oblivion, make up for all the time they had lost. Or maybe he'd let Sam top. Or they could sixty-nine or play bondage games. "Ah, so many positions, and we are going to try them all."

**~~~~~~~~**

Sam heard the knock on the door and casually said, "Come in."

Dean crossed the salt lines and glanced around the room. "They get porno here, Sammy?"

"Catch." Sam tossed the flask to him. 

Dean drank the holy water and made gagging sounds, dropping to his knees and bending over. 

"AHA! You **are** a demon!" Sam was quite smug, and picked up the rocksalt-laden shotgun.

Dean looked up and started to giggle. "Gotcha!"

Sam frowned and tossed a crucifix to him. 

Dean caught it, than yelped, dropping it and holding his hand as if in pain. "IT BURNS! IT BURNS!" This time he smirked. "Not."

Sam was growing frustrated. This thing had crossed the salt lines, drank holy water and held a crucifix. He took a step toward Dean and Dean stepped back. 

Now Dean knew good and well that there was a Devil's Trap on the ceiling, and walked right under it, frozen in his tracks. Sam tied him to the chair and recited the exorcism ritual, which he knew by heart.

As Sam intoned the words in flawless Latin, nothing happened. No furniture flying, no speaking in tongues and worst of all, Dean was whistling _The Girl From Ipanema_ the whole time. Sam felt like he was stuck in an elevator. And not only did Dean sing off-key, his tone-deafness extended to whistling as well.

"Shall we call it strike three and you untie me?" Dean asked. "The chicken wire is chafing my wrists something awful."

Sam was like a robot, not speaking as he freed his brother. He continued to stare, taking a seat on the bed, running his fingers through his hair. "It is you."

"Told ya so," Dean grinned yet again. "Sam, you have any of my stuff?" He sniffed himself. "I don't know how long I was there, time passes different than up here, but I smell like fire and brimstone."

Sam pointed to the door. "In the trunk. I didn't have the heart to get rid of any of it yet."

"Thanks." Dean took the keys and opened the trunk, seeing his beat-up, worn down backpack, the one he'd had for ten years. He opened it, finding his Glock, in perfect condition, and his hunting knife, sharpened and cleaned. He was pleased that Sam had taken care of them, two of his most prized possessions; the Impala he'd look over tomorrow. "And at least he didn't touch this," Dean muttered, taking out his Vanessa Williams Penthouse issue, the one he'd intended to sell on Ebay at some point. He tossed the pack over his shoulder and picked up his suitcase, carrying them both inside, laying the suitcase on the bed. "Let's see...." Dean began to unpack, taking out his leather jacket, jeans, clean underwear, but continued to search for a shirt. He tossed clothing all over the room, panic on his face. "Where is it?" he asked the air. "I need...."

Sam stood up and went to **his** backpack. "I think this is what you're looking for," and tossed Dean his favorite _Metallica_ tee, the one autographed by James Hetfield. 

"Dude, I thought you hated them?" A soft sob and Dean saw his brother had tears running down his face. 

"I...it still smelled like you, Dean. Gun oil, sweat and those disgusting chocolate mint cookies you lived on." All the pain he had felt for the past four months was finally being released. "It was all I had left."

Dean was at his side in a second, holding Sam tight, rocking him back and forth. "Shh, I'm here, Sammy, and I ain't goin' away again."

"It's _isn't_ , not _ain't_." He wrapped his arms around Dean. "Illiterate jerk."

"Over-educated bitch," Dean whispered back, which only made Sam cry harder. "Sam, please stop crying or I'm going to have to call you Samantha." He pushed Sam back a bit so he could see his face. "Dammit, Sam, stop crying, or I'm gonna start and then...oh God, Sammy, we'll have a chick-flick moment." He wiped a few tears away and grabbed a tissue, placing it on Sam's face. "Blow." Sam did and Dean grabbed another, eventually placing the box beside them. 

Eleven tissues later and Sam had finally calmed down. "You came back."

"Wow, you really are smart." Dean held his brother close again, kissing the top of his head. "Of course I came back, stupid. And it's a good thing I did, because I saw how you were driving my baby - peeling out of the spot like that. Who taught you to drive like a maniac?"

"You did." Sam pushed away and went to the bathroom, washing his face. He came back out to find Dean sprawled across the bed in nothing but his boxers, and lay next to him, propping his head on his hand. "How'd you get out?"

"Lucifer didn't want me, Sammy," Dean actually looked disappointed. "He told me not to make any more deals, that I wasn't welcome in Hell."

"Uh, Dean, I would think that's a positive thing."

"I know, but still. I can't figure it out. Maybe...shit, Sam, maybe he did something to me and I'm gonna turn evil."

"If you had any evil in you, Dean, everything I just did would have made it show itself. Trust me on that."

"I do trust you, Sammy. And...." Dean took a deep breath and let it out. "I love you."

"I know," Sam smiled, "you said it while you were giving that bullshit story about being a writer."

"No, Sam," Dean palmed Sam's face, "that's not what I said. Think about it."

Sam did, playing back the conversation in his head. It was a unique talent, similar to a photographic memory. 

_"The older brother, he was so much in love with the younger, and the first thing he needed to do was tell him that. In his final year, he realized how he felt, but was so afraid of what his brother, not to mention other people, would think."_

"You said...you told her that you were in love with me."

"He gets it in one." Dean leaned in closer. "You're not running away, so you're not freaked. But tell me, little brother, what **are** you feeling?"

"Going all _Doctor Phil_ on me, Dean?" Sam stared into Dean's eyes, knowing Dean wanted an answer, and not a flippant one. "Okay, I'll talk. You remember when we went up against the seven deadly sins?"

"Yeah, Sam, not easy to forget. By the way, how is Tamara?"

"She's okay. She teamed up with Jacob and they're doing pretty good, both professionally..." Sam smiled, "...and personally."

"I'm happy for them, I really am. Now finish."

"Dean, when I walked into that motel room, the night Bobby called...."

"Oh yeah," Dean grinned from ear to ear, "the Doublemint twins."

" **DEAN!** "

"Sorry." Dean was genuine with the word; he didn't use it often. 

"When I saw what you were doing...."

"Sam, I was with two women, we were getting kind of kinky and I can understand why you wanted to gouge your eyes out."

"Yeah, seeing my brother with a dildo up his ass was kind of shocking."

"I thought it was the position that freaked you out."

"Dean, the last thing I expected to see, was you sitting on a woman who was wearing a strap-on, you taking it up the ass, while you held the other woman upside down so you could suck on her...her...."

"Pussy?"

"Yes, you crass Neanderthal, doing **that** while she was sucking you off." Sam paused. "The first thing I thought when I closed the door, was there was no reason for you to have a piece of rubber up your ass when it could have been my dick." 

"Huh?" Dean was lost for words, his mouth hanging open. 

"Yes, slut of the supernatural world, your baby brother has been wanting to fuck you since he first discovered he was _Deansexual_ , which was at the age of fifteen!" 

"Uh, Sam, the word is bisexual."

"I know what I said." Sam smirked. "College boy here, remember?"

"Okay, smartass, what exactly is _Deansexual_?"

Sam reached out and cupped the back of Dean's head, drawing their lips close. "It means that I wanted nobody other then Dean in my bed." He brushed his lips over Dean's, a soft sigh on his lips, knowing what was coming next. "Yes, before you ask, I did love Jess, but not the kind of love I feel for you. The love for you, what I have **always** felt, is beyond...."

Dean shut him up with a kiss, tongue requesting entrance into Sam's mouth and getting it. Those lips parted for him and he took full advantage, moaning into Sam's mouth. Unfortunately, he did require air, and was forced to tear his lips away. Dean shifted a little and began to rub Sam's shoulders, untucking the tee-shirt, no resistance as he pulled it off, tossing it aside. Kisses to Sam's neck. "My beautiful Sam." He slid his hands down Sam's chest, rubbing the nipples, feeling them get hard. He pulled Sam back, so he was sitting against the headboard, Sam between his legs. "My sweet and innocent Sam."

Sam leaned back into Dean's arms, feeling the tongue licking his neck, the hardness pressing against his lower back. He snapped back into reality, as he realized that Dean had pulled off his boxers. "I never had sex with a guy, Dean."

"It's not sex, Sam, not with us. It's making love." Dean blew in his ear, feeling Sam stiffen up. "Shhh, relax for me. Just take deep, calming breaths. Nothing's going to happen unless you want it to, I swear." Dean slid his hands down Sam's body, unsnapping his pants, the zipper coming down. "Mmm, you like this?" 

"Yeah." 

"My lips or my hands?" 

"Yeah." 

Dean's hand slid down the front of Sam's pants, feeling the hard cock, rubbing up and down. "Get 'em off." Sam did as he was told. "That's my boy." Taking Sam's cock in hand, he stroked slow, feeling Sam swell under his touch. "Feel good, baby?" 

"Yeah." 

"Pretty monosyllabic aren't we." 

"Uh-huh." 

Dean had reached his limit, and turned Sam's face to his. A deep kiss, sucking the air from Sam's lungs, while he played with Sam's cock. "I can't wait, Sammy." He turned Sam so the two were facing. "I love you." 

"So you've told me a dozen times." Sam cracked a smile. "Say it a few more. I love to hear it." 

"I love you." He blew in Sam's ear. "I love you." Kisses down Sam's face, to his neck. "I love you." Dean sucked on one spot, leaving a bruise. 

"I love you too." Sam initiated the kiss this time, hand moving down Dean's body, running a finger along Dean's cock. He'd of course seen it before, but he'd never really **looked**. Dean was at least nine inches, if not more, and thick as well. "Dean, that is **never** going to fit inside me." 

"When it's time, when you're ready, it will. It's going to slide in smoothly, and feel so good." He reached into his backpack, taking out some lube and a condom. "I'm going to open this...." His arm was pulled back by Sam. 

"No, no condom. Bareback. Please." 

Dean shook his head. "I don't think so, Sam. Gotta use a condom or I don't dare get inside you." 

"I'm clean Dean." 

"Sammy, it's not you. It's me. I've been stupid sometimes, and haven't always used...." 

"No."

Dean thought for a moment, reluctantly nodding. "I...Sam, whatever you want." 

"Thank you." 

Dean turned Sam onto his stomach, not raising him to his knees. Squeezing some lube on his fingers, teasing Sam's tightness, not entering, gauging Sam's reaction. He got a moan, and slowly pushed one finger inside. He felt Sam tense up. "It's just me, Sam." He slid the finger in and out, waiting for Sam to relax again. When he felt the muscles ease up, he added a second finger, getting no resistance. "You okay?" 

"Oh yeah. Feels good." 

A third finger entered, Dean spreading them, stretching Sam as best he could. Glancing down at his erection, he wondered if Sam was right, if he **would** fit inside. Sometimes he wondered if being so well endowed was a blessing or a curse. Yes he got laid left and right, but there were many would-be partners who had gotten one look at his size and refused him. Too many had him briefly and pulled away. 

"Sam, this is **very** important. I need you to take deep breaths for me, and relax as best you can." 

"It's going to hurt, isn't it Dean." It was a statement, not a question. 

Dean wasn't about to lie to him. "They'll be some pain at first, but it **will** ease up." He took a deep breath himself, thinking, 'I hope.' Aloud, "If it becomes too much, or you feel too much pain, just say so, and I'll stop." 

"Then what?" 

"We'll figure something out. I promise." Sam raised himself to his knees, but Dean pushed him back. "No, Sammy. Trust me, and lay down this first time." Dean kneaded Sam's cheeks, holding them open. Resting his cock against the virgin passage, he bit his lower lip, the head pushing in. He felt the tense body under him and stilled. "Sam, I told you to relax. If you don't, we stop this right now." He felt Sam relax again, watching the cockhead enter, hearing the _pop_ when he got through the muscle that was trying it's best to keep him out. He saw Sam bury his head in the pillow and froze. "Sammy? Talk to me. You need to tell me what you're feeling." 

Sam wanted more then anything to tell Dean the truth, that it was painful, that he didn't know if he could do this. But he wanted to give this to Dean so badly, that he flat out lied. "It's okay. It's just new, you know?" 

"I know. Remember to take deep breaths." He eased some more in, getting about halfway, when he heard the groan. It was **not** a sound of pleasure. "Dammit Sam! I'm **not** doing this." He pulled back, but Sam moved with him. 

"Don't stop. I can do this. I promise it's not that bad." Another lie. 

Dean was unsure, but entered further, inching in, finally buried balls deep. He rubbed Sam's back, leaning over him, whispering, "You okay?" He got a nod, moving his hands to Sam's ass, spreading further. "I'm gonna move now, but you tell me if there's any more pain." He pulled out a bit, then moved back in, slow and easy. "Ahh, I can't believe you're taking me Sam, taking all of me." Another pull out, a deeper push in. "Oh, Sammy, beautiful Sammy, you are so hot, so tight. Never felt anything like this before." It was the truth. Further pull out, hard push in, this time getting a moan, and not a painful one either. Dean needed more, and slowly moved Sam to his knees. He pulled out almost all the way, shoving back in, hitting the prostate dead on. 

Sam threw his head back and howled...that was the only sound to describe it. "Again...do it again...." 

Dean angled right, hitting that pleasure spot once more. Taking Sam's cock in hand, he stroked gently, fingers rubbing the head. Gathering precome, he slid the fingers over Sam's lips. "Taste." Sam's tongue slid out, licking the fingertips, and Dean thought he was going to let loose right then. He had to let Sam come first though, had to pleasure his brother before he got his own. "Wanna ride you baby, make you mine." Dean didn't even think, he pulled out until only the tip remained, then slammed back in. Again and again, hard and fast, taking possession of what was now his, and his alone. He jerked Sam off harder, hearing Sam scream, feeling the semen on his hand. That was all it took for him to come hard, fighting the urge to black out from the sensation. 

Sam lay there panting, catching his breath, and whimpered when Dean slid from him. 

"Gotta clean up, Sam. Sorry." Dean wet a cloth, cleaned them both and crawled under the sheet next to Sam. But his gut told him something was wrong. "Sammy? You all right?"

"I'm afraid to go to sleep."

"I'm here, baby, and I'll keep the bad dreams away. Just like always."

"No, Dean, I'm afraid **you're** a dream, and when I wake up...."

"I'm very real, Sam." Dean reassured him with a kiss. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Can we...would you mind....?"

"What? Anything, Sam."

"Hold onto me, Dean. Just hold me in your arms. I know I sound like a girl, but...."

"Not at all, Sammy." Dean cradled his brother. "I will hold you all night, and tomorrow and the next day. I'm not ready to let go of you yet." Dean smiled. "So you just get some sleep and..." The soft snore hit his ears. "...and have sweet dreams, Sam. Nothing else from now on." Dean didn't sleep much himself. He spent most of the night looking at his brother, who slept the sleep of the peaceful for the first time since Dean had left him.

**~~~~~~~~**


	3. Interlude: The Roadhouse

"Sammy, I'm not old enough to be senile and if I remember correctly, the Roadhouse went...." Dean made explosions sounds.

"Hunter's need a place to gather, and Ellen had insurance. She finally got the check a few months back, and a bunch of us got together and the place was sort of rebuilt. Not on the same spot, of course."

"Of course," Dean nodded. "And just where was it rebuilt?"

"About five miles north of where it was, and on holy ground. If you thought it was a safe haven before...."

"Sam, are you still being...harassed? Still being called evil?" Dean looked more than a bit pissed. "I'll take care of it."

"I'm not twelve anymore." Sam frowned. "I can take care of myself."

"Well excuse me for wanting to take care of you! I've only been doing it since you were an infant!" Dean gripped the steering wheel tight, grinding his teeth. 

"I'm sorry, Dean. I just...I've pretty much been on my own for a few months now, and I've gotten more self-sufficient with hunting." He leaned over and gave Dean a kiss. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful."

"S'okay, Sam." Dean gave him a small smile. "It's hard for me to see you as a grown-up; probably always will be."

"I love you too, bro'. And to clarify, it's not me; they leave me alone now. They don't know I died and you...resurrected me. Only Ellen, Bobby and Missouri know that, and they've never said a word." Sam winced. "Dean, the hunters know **you** died. Doing the Lazarus routine is gonna freak 'em out something awful."

"I can't avoid it, Sammy. Once word gets out that I'm back, I don't want them hunting me down, like they did you." Dean smiled a little. "Whatever happened to Ruby, by the way?"

"I hunted with her a couple of times," Sam admitted. 

"YOU HUNTED WITH HER?!"

"Well...Dean, she knows more about the supernatural than I ever will."

"Of course she does, Sam! She's a demon! D-E-M-O-N! Solid black eyes, deep voice when pissed, drinks decaf and..." Dean grimaced, "...eats soy burgers and tofu salad."

"Wouldn't that make me a demon also?" Sam cracked.

" **Your** eyes don't get solid black."

"She likes Pink and Nickelback and scored us backstage passes when they were on a double bill in Nebraska." Sam was grinning. "It was so cool."

"She gets you backstage passes and she's OKAY?!" Dean sighed. "You start taking drugs while I was gone, bro'?"

Sam couldn't help the smirk. " **Missouri** said she was good people...er, good demon."

"Did you fuck her, Sammy?"

"Eww, no way, Dean. Even if I slept around, which I don't, she's a demon and I'm sure she is WAY beyond her expiration date."

"She hurt you, Sam?"

"No."

"She save your ass again?"

"Nobody knows what she is, Dean, and we have to keep the secret." Sam nodded firmly. "Missouri said so."

"No way I'm arguing with Missouri. I don't need my ass whipped. And as long as demon-chick stays out of my line of sight, she can live."

**~~~~~~~~**

They hadn't called anyone to prepare them, not even Bobby or Missouri. 

Dean figured that Missouri already knew, as the woman knew everything and then some. He got out of the car, staring at the new building, with the big sign that read _Harvelle's Roadhouse_. "It looks good."

"That it does," Sam smiled. "It took a lot of work, but it was worth it."

They spotted Bobby's car outside and it was Sam who made the call to Bobby's cell. The man in question came outside a moment later.

"Dean." Bobby swept him up into a hug. 

"It's a long story," Dean told him, "and I missed you too."

"I already knew, and so does Ellen. We were waiting for you to call."

"Missouri," Dean smiled, "she told you."

"That's why I'm here," Bobby said. "I hope you're ready to do this, Dean."

"I have to."

They entered the Roadhouse, every head turning to the door, and everything stopped. The music, the talking, the eating and drinking. All eyes were focused on Dean.

Ellen didn't say a word either; she just ran into the kitchen.

Dominic Lochet, probably the tallest and burliest hunter who ever lived, stalked over to Dean and punched him in the face. 

Dean retaliated with a right hook of his own and got a left thrown back at him. He spit out some blood and sneered. "Dom, that fucking hurt."

"Nobody gets out of Hell," Dominic stated as fact, approaching Dean, ready to continue the fight.

"John Winchester did." Bobby stepped in front of Dean and Sam, ready to fight with them against every hunter in that room. "You had no doubt believing that."

"He remained dead!" Dominic fired back.

The sounds of numerous guns cocking filled the room; they were all aimed at Dean. 

"You leave that boy alone," a soft voice echoed throughout the room. All the hunters grew quiet. Because even with her low-key voice, Missouri Mosely commanded respect. **Nobody** messed with her and she was the **only** person who was trusted by the **entire** hunting community. She had been the sole reason the hunter's had ceased hunting Sam. 

"Missouri, this is not the time nor the...."

"You shut your mouth, Dominic Lochet!" And she very rarely raised her voice, which was why Dominic backed down. Missouri glared at each and every hunter. "You people all put your guns away." She walked over to Dean and palmed his face. "This is Dean Winchester, and he doesn't have one drop of demon in him."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked her. If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that even he had doubts about that.

"Don't argue with me, boy. I got a whole kitchen full of spoons just waiting to whack you upside the head." She drew him into a tight hug. "Welcome home, you've been missed." 

"Besides," Bobby added, glaring at Dominic, "if he were a demon, he couldn't get within five hundred feet of this place. Or did your thick head forget where it's located?"

Dominic looked at Missouri, than to Dean, a smile slowly gracing his face. "Welcome back, Dean. I sure would like to know how you got out...and came back to this plain of existence." He shook Dean's hand. "Sorry about the punch."

Dean smirked and decked him, knocking him over a table. "Apology accepted."

"Drinks are on the house," Ellen said, which caused a stampede to the bar.

"So, how'd you get out?" Jacob asked Dean, handing him a beer. 

"If I told you I wasn't wanted, would you believe it?" Dean laughed. "It's the truth."

"I would."

At the sound of the British accent, Dean turned with a genuine smile. "Hello, Tamara. It's good to see you."

"I missed you, Dean, so very much." She gave him a hug and started to cry. 

"Now don't do that." Dean held her close. "And I'm happy to see you too." He glanced down at her abdomen. "I hear we're going to have a new hunter soon."

"In about seven months," Tamara smiled. 

"Congratulations." Dean turned to Jacob. "Can I assume you're the father?"

"Yep, that I am," Jacob nodded with a huge grin. 

"Well Hell, the next round's on me!"

"And how are you going to pay for this, Dean?" Ellen asked, finally stealing her own hug.

"Sam will wash dishes."

That sent everyone into a round of genuine laughter. 

"Where's Jo?" Dean asked, eyes searching the room. "And Ash? I know he recovered from his...injuries." His head whipped around and he glared at Sam. "Did something happen to them and you didn't tell me?"

"They're on a cruise," Ellen told him. "Their honeymoon."

"Way cool!" Dean grinned.

A few hours later things had calmed somewhat, and Harvelle's was emptying out, like it usually did at dusk. The hunter's were getting ready to go to work. Most of them were still wary of Dean, but one stern look from Missouri and they kept their mouths shut. It was clear that Dean was _off limits_ , just like Sam.

Ellen went into the kitchen to make some dinner for them, and once they were eating, Dean gave a very rough outline of what had happened. 

"You going after this bounty hunter?" Bobby asked. 

"Yeah," Dean told them. "We're leaving at dawn."

"You gonna tell me about him?"

"Nope." Dean shrugged. "I can't, don't ask me why. I just feel that me and Sammy, it's something we gotta do alone."

"I won't push," Bobby smiled. "I never have. But if you boys need help...."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam laughed, "we know you're the number one ghostbuster around here and you know all and see all."

"Nah," Bobby said, lips twitching, "that would be the _Amazing Kreskina_." He nodded towards Missouri. 

Missouri grinned at him. "You got that right."

"I have a room upstairs if you boys want it," Ellen said. 

"Two," Sam said, and Dean agreed.

"Two?" Ellen smiled. "Boys, I'm not blind, and the way you two have been looking at each other...."

"You don't care?" Dean asked. 

"This life we lead, you two of all people know how short it is. I'm not going to berate anyone for falling in love."

"Dad would have been pretty pissed," Sam laughed. "Probably kick both our asses to Hell and back."

"You underestimate your Daddy," Missouri told them. "He wasn't exactly a prude, and he certainly wasn't a homophobe."

"That's true," Bobby snickered, blushing a bit. 

Dean spit his beer all over the table. "Bobby, did you and Dad....?"

"We did a lot of things, Dean, and if you would have asked, he would have told. John Winchester was never ashamed of anything. And he was blunt almost to a fault."

"Oh God," Sam groaned, "that reminds me of when I asked him where babies came from, when I was seven."

"That teacher you had, Sammy," Dean grinned, "man oh man, you freaked her out something awful."

"What happened?" Ellen asked. 

"I told the teacher, when she mentioned the birds and bees, that she was wrong." Sam put his hand over this mouth to stop the giggles, so Dean finished.

"Sammy told his class that a dick and a chick got it together and _wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am_ a baby popped out nine months later."

"Unless," Sam had himself under control for the moment, "the dick had slow swimmers, in which case the kid's father was the...the mailman." He cracked up again.

"That sounds like John," Missouri said; she was laughing herself.

Ellen picked up her beer. "To John Winchester. He made a lot of mistakes in his life, but in the end, he always did the right thing."

"You mean that, Ellen?" Dean asked, knowing how she had always blamed his father for her Bill's death.

"I do, Dean."

"To Dad," Sam added, "and to Mom, and to all of us." He stifled a yawn.

"Come along, Sammy," Dean stood, motioning his brother to do the same. "I think we both need some sleep."

**~~~~~~~~**

Dean closed the door behind them and stared at his brother, taking in the beauty which was Sam. 

"Something the matter Dean?" 

Dean shook his head. "I just love to look at you...." He pulled Sam close, pulling Sam's shirt off, as Sam kicked his sneakers off. Dean made quick work of Sam's pants, and Sam found himself naked shortly thereafter, Dean's arms around his waist, Dean's mouth upon his, that sinful tongue taking possession of Sam's mouth. The kiss was broken as Dean stopped to remove his own shirt, letting go of Sam. 

Sam seized the moment, kneeling down and nuzzled Dean's crotch, feeling Dean's cock growing within his jeans. 

It was now Dean's turn to moan, as he braced his hands on Sam's shoulders, lifting his legs so Sam could pull his boots off. Once that was done, his hands moved to his belt, but Sam's hands got there first. 

Hazel eyes darkened with pure lust stared into his, and Dean nearly lost his balance as Sam whispered, "Let me." His hands caressed up Dean's legs, up his abdomen, around and back down to his ass, while he continued to nuzzle Dean's crotch, driving Dean to whimpers of "PleasePleasePlease." 

"Soon...." Sam's only word as he slowly undid Dean's belt, pulling Dean's pants down. He stood and stepped forward, backing Dean to the bed. Dean fell onto his back and Sam knelt between his legs, sighing as his eyes took in the body laid bare before him. "You are so beautiful Dean." Sam spread Dean's legs, caressing the inner thighs, while his mouth began to kiss its way up toward Dean's cock. 

Dean however, was beyond thinking at the moment, and he grabbed Sam by the hair, their eyes meeting. "Fuck me now..." Dean growled. "...I want you inside me...." Dean suddenly shifted, grabbing Sam around the waist, and pulled Sam inside of him, grimacing from the brief pain. "I ran out of patience." 

Sam reveled in the pain/pleasure of being pulled into Dean's ass with no preparation. "I love it when you're dry and tight...feels so good...." He slid out half way and pushed back in, Dean's legs gripping his waist harder. "Relax Dean...let me pleasure you." Dean relaxed his grip, and Sam was able to move a bit. He slid out again, pushing back in hard. "Is that what you want...you want it rough, Dean?" Dean nodded. "I'll never say no to you." Sam began to pound inside, taking Dean's cock hard in his grip, stroking as hard as he thrusted. Dean released him, spreading his legs even wider for their pleasure, and Sam grabbed them, pulling those legs over his shoulders, his nails digging into Dean's thighs as he took them both over the edge.... 

"SAMMY!" Dean's shout, as his semen shot over Sam's hand, Sam continuing to pump him, as Sam's movements came faster and harder. 

"DEAN...GOD YESSSS!" Sam's scream of completion as he warmed Dean with his come, undulating within Dean as he emptied himself. Dean's legs slid from his shoulders, and Sam gently withdrew, lightly stroking Dean's chest. "You okay?" 

"Yeah, very okay."

"Good." Pulling Dean into his arms, Sam kissed him, whispering, "I **so** love you." 

"Love you too, Sam," Dean smiled, and buried his face in Sam's chest, Sam's arms coming around him. 

"We gonna get cleaned up?" Sam asked.

Dean grabbed a handful of tissues, wiping them clean as best he could. "Sam?"

"Hmm?" Sam snuggled into Dean's warm body. "What?"

"Where's my body?"

"What?"

"My body. Where'd ya bury it?"

"I'll give you this much, Dean, you come up with the most romantic post-orgasm conversations."

"I was just wonderin'."

"Go to sleep, Dean. We're going to find this guy Oliver and pump his ass full of rocksalt."

"You sound like a hunter, Sammy." Dean was clearly proud.

"It's kept me alive." Sam's voice was barely a whisper. "Bobby said I was channeling you."

"Tell me how I died, because my memory is a little blurry." 

Dean's tone left no room for argument and Sam knew he had to answer. "You burned, Dean." Sam's voice cracked. "You burned right along with the Deer Hill Inn in Wisconsin."

"Hellfire," Dean stated. "Nothing left, not even ashes."

"You got it." Sam turned over, unable to face Dean. "I wasn't even there."

"I...I remember now." Dean swallowed hard. "You...you went to put our stuff in the car and get some coffee and...the room started to burn. It didn't even start with a spark. The whole fucking room was on fire, a fucking inferno, and I couldn't move; I tried, but...."

"I came back...God, Dean, I was only gone for about fifteen minutes, and the whole place was just gone. Maybe if I had stayed...."

Dean forced his brother to turn over, wiping the tears away and kissing him chastely. "You'd be dead too."

"I felt like it was my fault, but Missouri, she told me it wasn't. I didn't want to believe her, but you know how she is."

"Threaten to whip your ass if you didn't get over the guilt?"

"Exactly." Sam allowed a smile to come to his face. "And she squared things with the other hunters, told them to leave me alone, like she did with you."

"They know better than to fuck with her."

"Oh yeah. Anyway, after that, Bobby and me teamed up for a few weeks, until I told him I had to be on my own, that I'd be okay. He wasn't too crazy about leaving me alone." Sam laughed. "I had to check in with him every day, and the one time I forgot, he showed up at the motel with six other hunters, ready to save me."

"Dad trusted him with his life."

"Uh, Dean, it appears Dad trusted him with more than that."

"Talk about wanting to gouge your eyes out...."

"Don't think about it, Dean. Just keep telling yourself that Dad never had sex, and that we were hatched or found on a doorstep."

"I'd like to Sam, I really would, except I remember Mom throwing up for nine straight months before you were born."

"And Dean, could you make up your mind of what to call...." Sam's eyes glanced down. "Satan, Beezlebub, Lucifer, or just plain old _the devil_. Pick one, 'cause I am getting confused."

"Variety is the spice of life, Sammy-boy. I think I just spent quite some time teaching you that."

"Sleep, Dean?"

"Sleep, Sam. For tomorrow, we have a bounty hunter to track."

**~~~~~~~~**


	4. The Bounty Hunter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. To avoid confusion, and when necessary, I'll refer to Sam Winchester as _Sammy_ and Sam Oliver as _Sam_. I think you can figure out who's who...at least I hope so   
>  2\. This chapter dedicated to anyone who has ever attended a Tupperware party.

It took six weeks for Dean and Sam to track the bounty hunter. Now they could have asked for help, but the boys were very stubborn, and wanted to do this on their own. For some reason, there were thirteen Sam Oliver's listed as employee's of _The Work Bench_ , and they were all twenty-one years old. Dean just knew that was Satan's doing. He didn't want his bounty hunter found. The first twelve didn't pan out, as it turned out they didn't exist. 

And now the Winchester's were finally on the last one, in Seattle....

**~~~~~~~~**

Sam Oliver was working the evening shift, stacking the latest chainsaw model, when he was approached by two men. "Can I help you?"

"You Sam Oliver?" Dean asked, looking him up and down. The kid looked more innocent than **his** Sam; he could **not** be Satan's bounty hunter. 

"Uh, yeah?" Sam swallowed hard. These guys didn't look too friendly. 

"We need to talk to you." Just in case this kid **wasn't** as innocent as he looked, Dean put on his most menacing scowl. 

"YO SAM!" Sock wandered over, a grin on his face. "I got photos of Wendy in the buff. Her tits are like...." He noticed the Winchester's. "Friends of yours?" He brushed them off with a wave, and turned back to Sam. "Anyways, Wendy has **the** nicest tits in existence. Well, not as nice as Josie's, but since **she** isn't letting me look anymore...."

"You must be Sock," Dean sighed. Satan had been right. Based on the kid's mouth, and the look on his face, he didn't have much of a brain. 

Ben came over, pushing a wagon full of axes. "C'mon lardass," he nodded to Sock, "time to do your job." He looked at Dean and his eyes grew wide. "HOLY SHIT! IT'S DEAN WINCHESTER!"

"My reputation goes a long way," Dean snickered.

"And....?" Sam and Sock both asked. 

"He's...oh fuck, Sam, he's gotta be your latest job." Ben picked up an axe, ready to swing it. "He killed some women in Saint Louis, robbed a bank, is wanted by the FBI and...he died some time ago!"

"You're Ben," Dean smiled. "The one with some brains."

"How do you know all that?" Sam Winchester asked. 

"I read true crime stories on the internet," Ben replied, still holding the axe up. 

"Sam...." Dean started. 

"What?" two voices replied.

Dean looked from one to the other, nodding to himself. "This is too confusing." He smiled at Sam Oliver, "You'll be _Sam_ ," than to his brother, "and you'll be _Sammy_."

"I hate that nickname," Sam sneered.

"Tough, bro'. Unless you want him to keep answering for you...or you want me to call you _Samuel_...."

"Okay, okay," Sam agreed, albeit reluctantly. "And I hate you very much."

"And you," Dean glared at Ben, "you put that thing down before you hurt somebody."

"Uh-uh. I am not letting some dead guy...."

"Sammy, would you mind?" Dean smirked and the axe flew out of Ben's hands and into his brother's. "First of all, the charges were all dropped, thanks to **your** boss. And second, we sort of do the same job, only at different levels. Now my brother and me just have to do a couple of tests, to make sure none of **you** are demonic. Then we can all talk."

"Tests?" Sam looked wary. "What kinds of tests?"

"Is there going to be an essay?" Sock asked, a bit frightened. "'Cause I suck at essays."

"I do verbal testing good," Sam said happily.

"They're gonna cut us open and examine our body parts and..." Ben looked close to panicking, "...suck out our brains."

"You watch Grade-Z horror movies, don't you?" Sammy asked him.

"Brain-sucking? Cool." Sock grinned again. "This reminds me of _Return of the Living Dead_. Are you gonna do the sucking, or is some gorgeous half-naked redhead gonna take care of it?"

"Christo," Sammy glared at them.

"Word association?" Sam nodded. "I can do that. Abra-Cadabra."

Sam shook his head and focused on Sock. "Exorcizo te, immundíssime spíritus, omnis incúrsio adversárii, omne phantasma...."

Sock interrupted him. "Phantasm? Man, I **love** that movie. Angus Scrimm is like the most awesome evil guy next to _Jigsaw_."

"No, I think he meant the band _Phantasma_ ," Ben said. "You know, those guys from Europe... _Gospel_? _Jahve_?" He seemed to be thinking. "I wonder whatever happened to them."

"I'm convinced," Sammy conceded quickly. "Although my head may explode from their vacuous brains."

"You hear that?" Sock nodded with pride. "Our brains are vacuous. I think I speak for all of us, when I say thanks for the compliment."

Dean ignored him and picked up one of the chainsaws. "Is this the latest _Echo_? The CS-440?" He picked up the chainsaw and waved it about, a totally insane grin on his face.

Sam thought his brother looked like a deranged serial killer on crack. "No, Dean," he said softly, "you may not get one."

"But Sammy," Dean whined, "it has a forty-five CC engine with auto-control, plus a side action tensioner, automatic adjustable chain oiler, safety chain brake, and...and a heavy duty filter system. Plus it comes with safety goggles, so even you can use it." He paused, thinking. "And Consumer Reports ranks _Echo_ as having the best chainsaw on the market." He nodded in a _So there!_ motion.

"I have no idea what you just said," Sam answered, "and you still can't have it."

"Aw, get it for him, Sammy, or he won't stop bitching," came a voice from behind them. 

"Bobby?" Sock's face lit up. "Uncle Bobby, is that you?"

"Albert?" Bobby stared at him. "Albert, what are you doing here?"

"Albert?" Dean grinned. "Your name is _Albert_?"

"He was named for **my** father," Bobby said, shutting Dean up immediately.

"Could you not call me that?" Sock asked. "I feel like a six year old again."

"Okay... _Sock_...come and give your old Uncle a hug." He pulled Sock into an embrace and when he stepped back, he smiled at Sam. "Sam, how have you been? How's your parents?"

"They're...fine," Sam answered. "Uh, Bobby, how do you know...." He pointed to the brothers.

"You remember John Winchester?"

Sock brightened, jumping up and down. "I do! I do! He did some work for my Mom a few years back, on your recommendation." He turned to Sam and Ben. "I'm not quite sure what kind of work he did, but my Mom was happy."

Sam nodded as he remembered. "Your Mom was ready to move, and then she changed her mind."

"Wasn't that the guy that slept with your Mother?" Ben asked innocently. "The one that let us borrow his truck even though none of us had a license, just to get us out of there?"

"Yeah," Sock said, uncaring about the remark. "Gave us all fake ID's, told us to disappear for the night, go to a strip club and have a good time."

"That sounds familiar," Sammy murmured, remembering plenty of times John had done the same for him and Dean.

"Bobby, what are you doing here?" Dean asked.

"I told you I was going to visit my sister and nephew."

"Uh, _this_ ," Dean nodded to Sock, "is your nephew?"

"Yep, he sure is," Bobby told him. "Sock takes after his father, my late brother-in-law, in **every** way."

"I figured as much," Dean said. "And John was our Father."

"Was?" Sock frowned. "Sorry, man. He was a pretty cool guy."

"Sam," Dean started, shaking his head at his brother and nodding to the other Sam, "you don't exactly strike me as...."

"As what?" Bobby asked. "And just why are you boys here? I thought you were going to track the bounty hunter and torch his ass, send it so fucking deep it would never climb out of...." He eyed his nephew, thinking he'd said too much.

"What?" Sam swallowed hard. "Aw, c'mon, it's not my fault, really."

"What's not your fault, Sam?" Bobby asked softly. "Did you, maybe, accidentally, get in the way of these boys doing their jobs?"

"No," Sam squeaked. 

"Than what the fuck is going on here?!"

"Sam is the bounty hunter," Sammy said. 

"O-kay," Bobby nodded slowly, taking it calmly as he took almost everything; nothing much surprised him anymore. And if he would have asked the bounty hunter's name in the first place, he would have known. But he hadn't, and the point was moot anyway. "Sam Oliver, do you want to explain how this happened? Why did you choose this line of work?"

"I don't exactly **have** a choice," Sam said. "See, my Dad was sick, he was dying, and Mom didn't know what to do. She sold the soul of her first born to Satan so Dad would get better. Mom and Dad decided not to have kids, but then Dad's doctor told him Dad was sterile, so they stopped using birth-control. No baby, no soul to sell."

"But you're here," Dean pointed out. 

"Because the doctor made his own deal and nine months later, there I was. And if I don't do this for him, he takes Mom's soul...and maybe my Dad and younger brother too." Sam's breath hitched. "I won't let him take them. Besides, I'm only going after bad people, evil things...."

"Those that escaped from down there," Dean finished for him. "Yeah, I know the story. He told me when he let me out." At their puzzled looks, Dean continued. "That firebug you sent back, he sort of took my...room...in Hell, so I got to come back."

"You a bounty hunter also?" Ben asked.

"Not exactly," Sammy said. "We've been doing this job on our own for a long time."

"You do the same thing, Uncle Bobby?" Sock asked. 

Bobby nodded. "Your Mom, she knows all about it. But it's never mentioned, because it freaks her out too much. And don't you go telling her you know about these things either."

"I won't. And why did their Dad....?" 

"Because there was a poltergeist in your house, trapped there by accident. John got rid of it."

"Not bad," Sock smiled. "Can we hunt these things with you?"

"NO!" the three hunters shouted at him.

"The things we go after," Bobby started, "they're not firebugs or carjackers or even plain old everyday murderers."

Ben understood. "You go after the...the _closet monsters_ , the _creatures under the bed_ , those kinds of things."

"Exactly," Sammy added. "The _Boogeymen_ , if you want to call them that."

"There's no such thing," Sam and Sock said with conviction. 

"Don't you guys read?" Ben asked them. "Since we been doing this job, I've been catching up."

"Sock," Bobby glared at him, "it just occurred to me. How do you know what's going on?"

"Me and Ben, we help Sam, because that's what friends do."

Bobby didn't have an answer to that. He could only nod in agreement. 

"Besides," Sock just had to add, "we have no lives."

A box suddenly appeared before them.

"That's what the vessel comes in, the weapon, for lack of a better term, to trap whatever it is," Sam explained. "We never know what's in there."

"And it can be pretty cool," Sock added. "We got to suck the firebug into a dustbuster. It was fucking **awesome**!" He made _whooshing_ noises and moved his hand as if he was cleaning up.

"You remember the bugs?" Sam grinned. "Now **that** was awesome."

"Bugs?" Dean grew pale. "There's bugs?"

"This one time, there was a swarm of demonic bugs...."

"Been there, done that, got the tee-shirt to prove it," Sammy snickered.

"So they're not in that box?" Dean swallowed hard. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Sock couldn't help the sigh. "They were part of this jealous chick who was using 'em to swarm on anyone who hit on her old man."

"You're afraid of bugs?" Ben asked. 

"I...of course not!" Dean shook his head. "I fucking kick demon-ass! Bugs mean shit to me! Bring 'em on!" He paused. "You did get rid of them, right?" 

"Zapped 'em with a toaster."

"Two or four slice?" 

"Does it matter, Dean?" Sammy asked him. "Open the box, Sam."

Dean did take a step back when Sam made a move toward the box.

Sam opened the box, not sure what he would find this time. But instead of a vessel, he found an invitation. "I don't understand this. There's always something to trap whatever we go after."

Sammy picked up the invitation. "A Tupperware party, huh? Dean and I will go."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sure, Sammy, we can do the _Al and Peggy_ routine." He turned to the boys. "Who knows? It might be fun."

**~~~~~~~~**

Sam was at first unsure about going. Dean was sure to be in flirt mode and Sam was fighting back a (slight) case of jealousy as they parked the car. There would be women there, lots of women, and his relationship with Dean was still fresh and new. The question was, how far would Dean take the flirting?

Within five minutes Sam was calm and comfortable. The women were too busy testing out the Tupperware and chasing their children and didn't even give Dean a second glance. Sam had walked out after a while, and barely noticed when Dean exited with a large shopping bag, putting it in the back seat. When they got back to the motel, Dean began to take things out.

"A sandwich keeper?" Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Why did you buy a sandwich keeper? Please enlighten me."

"It has dinosaurs all over it." Dean shrugged. "And it's just the right size for silver bullets and will keep them fresh forever." 

"Dean, silver bullets don't go bad."

"How do you know that? And Holy Water, I just know it loses its zing after a while. The Tupperware lady said **this** container," Dean held up a jug, "will keep any liquid fresh tasting and ready to drink at any time."

"We don't drink the water, you putz! We douse demons with it!" Sam was blinking in disbelief at the next item. "I just **know** I'm going to regret asking, but being as I seem to be a total glutton for punishment, would you mind telling me why we need a Jell-o mold?"

"I always wanted one." Dean nodded happily. "And it has SpongeBob on it, and I might want to make Jell-o one day. Dad always said to be prepared for anything."

"I don't think he was talking about Jell-o." Sam picked up another item. "An insulated tumbler with drip-less straw seal?"

"You spilled your Coke in the car last week. And it's your favorite, Winnie-The-Pooh."

"It's nineteen fucking dollars! And for future reference, my favorite is Tigger." He looked at one more item. "This is nice. A seventeen dollar breadkeeper. I can't wait to hear your explanation for that one."

"That's the vessel, Sam. We have to trap whatever it is in there."

"Oh thank God, something we **can** use." Sam thought for a moment. "How do you **know** it's the vessel?"

Dean smirked. "It was the only container that wasn't clear and it was glowing."

There was a knock on the door and Bobby walked in, eyes darting to the bed. "You left him alone, didn't you, Sam?"

"How could I know, Bobby? It was only a Tupperware party." Sam groaned. "I figured even Dean couldn't get into trouble at one of those."

" _Only a Tupperware party_ ," Bobby snickered. "I went to one with the wife years ago, and ended up with three hundred dollars worth of useless shit. I never did figure out what a _Salad Spinner_ was for."

Dean was grinning again. "To rinse, serve and store lettuce, pre-packaged salads, salad greens and fresh vegetables." Sam and Bobby just stared at him and Dean flushed pink. "Uh, I paid attention when the lady was giving the demonstration."

"You bought one, didn't you, Dean?" Sam asked him. 

"It looked pretty cool, and you eat a lot of salad and...."

"FORGET I ASKED!" Sam snapped. "Is that it?"

"Not quite."

"What else, Dean?"

"I won the door prize," Dean shrugged. "Salt and pepper shakers."

Bobby was laughing so hard, he was crying. It took a few minutes for him to calm. "Okay, boys, I'm not quite sure what it is you'll be tracking, but whatever it is, it's in the warehouse district."

"What makes you so sure?" Sam asked. 

"People have been disappearing there for about a month."

"You coming along?" Dean asked.

"No. Me and Jane are going to dinner. I don't get to see her often enough."

"Catch up with you later, Bobby."

"Take good care of my nephew, boys. Other than you two, him and Jane are all I have left."

"We will, Bobby," Dean told him. "And I know I speak for me and Sam, when I say we're honored to be part of your family, and to have you as part of ours."

Bobby just gave them a nod and walked out. 

As soon as they were alone, Dean wrapped his fingers in his brother's hair, kissing him, and Sam nearly lost his balance. 

"Dean?" 

"Yeah, Sam?" 

"We need to get naked."

That was accomplished in record time and once they were undressed, Sam managed to make it to the bed and sat, Dean in his lap, their lips still locked together. They finally parted, both men needing to breath. 

Sam just sighed, flipped Dean onto the bed and climbed astride him. His body covered Dean's, tongue parting Dean's lips, sucking on Dean's tongue and tasting it. Breaking the kiss for much needed air, Sam slid down Dean's body, his mouth pausing to latch on to a nipple. He suckled on it, then moved to the other, while his hands caressed Dean's arms. Moving further down, he dipped his tongue into Dean's bellybutton and smiled as Dean giggled. His hands moved to Dean's hips, holding them, while his thumbs massaged, causing Dean to arch his body up. Sam's hands moved now, spreading Dean's legs and he knelt, massaging the thighs with a firm and steady pressure. 

"Sam...." A low moan from Dean and his brother took Dean's cock in his hands, stroking gently with both hands. Bending his head down, he lapped at the slit, tasting the warm precome seeping out, licking his lips at the sweet taste. 

"Dean...." A moan from Sam and he covered Dean's cock with his mouth, inhaling the shaft, deep throating him, head bobbing up and down. His hands continued to apply pressure to Dean's thighs, holding him steady, not allowing Dean the freedom of movement. As Sam's mouth moved up and down, his tongue stroked, his teeth nipped and grazed Dean's cock, and Dean was trying to move. But still Sam held him. Sam was a fast learner and had quickly discovered what turned Dean on, and he kept driving Dean to the edge and pulling him back. Dean's hands moved to his hair and he pulled Sam's head hard onto his cock. 

Sam released Dean's legs and Dean arched, thrusting into his brother's mouth, writhing and moaning as he came hard. Sam moaned as he tasted Dean, sucking hard, moving his head, trying to pull Dean deeper. Dean collapsed onto the bed, wondering if he would be able to move again. He felt Sam's hands on his cock and opened his eyes. Sam was gathering Dean's come in his hands, and Dean watched as he stroked his own cock, spreading Dean's semen over it. Sam slowly pushed a finger deep, and Dean just lay there, still unable to move, only able to feel. Another finger joined the first and Dean's eyes met Sam's. 

Sam grinned, removed his fingers, and slowly sheathed himself, stilling when he had buried his cock within Dean. He slowly moved, not wanting to hurt Dean, and the two began to move together, writhing against one another. It didn't take long before Sam was pounding into Dean, Dean pushing against him. 

"Oh Dean!" Sam's voice, ragged and gritty, coming, continuing to fuck him until he was emptied. After a few minutes he gentled himself from Dean and Sam pulled him into his arms. "Very nice...very, very nice." 

Dean just stared at him, unable to say anything. When he finally found his voice, he could only manage what amounted to a squeak. "Do I have to move, Sammy?"

"No, Dean. You just lay there, I'll clean us up, and then we can get the rest we need."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

**~~~~~~~~**


	5. A Hunting We-Will-Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Once again, to avoid confusion, and when necessary, I'll refer to Sam Winchester as _Sammy_ and Sam Oliver as _Sam_.   
>  2\. I picked rituals at random, and have no idea what they translate to. But they sounded good, so I used them. If there are any professional hunters reading, please leave a comment for the correct ritual.

The moon was full, which was a good thing, as they could use all the light they could get. The men all met up downtown at ten minutes before nine, because the disappearances had all occurred, for some strange reason, at nine PM. 

Dean thought it was an odd time for a supernatural thing to show up.

"Like they keep a schedule," Sammy said, taking out weapons. 

Sock peered into the trunk. "Are those silver bullets? Like for werewolves?"

"Yeah, and don't touch." Dean slammed the trunk shut. 

"He's kind of obsessive," Ben said. 

"Yes, he is," Sammy answered him. He tossed a large tome to Sam. "Hold onto that. I'll need it later."

"What is it?" Sam asked, opening it and seeing Latin.

"Ritual book."

Dean turned on his EMF, waiting for it to start doing it's thing. 

"That's an EMF," Sammy explained. 

"Didn't Egon Spengler have one of those?" Sock asked, very seriously. 

"Mine's better," Dean nodded. "Built it myself out of a walkman."

" **Way** cool," Sock snatched it. "Can ya build me one?" 

"Give it back, you dolt!" Dean grabbed for it, but Sock ran off. 

"I love this thing!"

"I'm gonna kill him." Dean was fuming. "Bobby's nephew or not, he is DEAD!" 

Sammy had already grabbed hold of Sock and dragged him back over. "Give Dean back his toy and he won't kill you."

"GIMME!" Dean snatched it back. "Mine, and I don't share."

Sammy giggled. "Now, Dean, Dad always said to share your toys and to play nice with other children."

"I don't wanna." Dean sulked and pouted. "And you can't make me, Sammy."

"Just ignore him," Sammy said. "That's what I do."

At that moment the EMF went wild. "Demon that way." Dean sprinted off, the other's following. 

They entered an abandoned warehouse, Dean looking in every direction, not seeing anything. 

"Over there," Ben pointed, a slight giggle coming from him. 

"I see it," Sock giggled as well, the two stalking over to the shape, which was a one foot tall goblin. 

"It doesn't look so tough," Ben laughed. "Let's put the sucker in the Tupperware and get this over with."

"Yeah!" Sock grinned, grabbing it by the arms and holding it up. "You ain't so fucking tough, are ya, _Pee-Wee_?"

"Sock, don't do that," Dean told him. 

"I think he may be right," Sam added. "There's something too easy about this."

"He is right," Sammy told them. "Sock, put it down."

"Let's just stuff it in the...." Sock noticed that he was losing his grip. His mouth dropped open as the pixie-sized goblin began to grow...and grow...and grow...until it was a good seven feet tall, with **very** sharp teeth and pitch-black eyes. "Uh-oh." He released it and backed away, the thing growling at him. "I want my Mommy," he squeaked.

Dean and Sammy both aimed their guns, but they were pulled out of their hands and thrown aside.

Sam opened the ritual book, turned to a random page, and began to read. _"Omnipotens Dómine, Verbum dei Patris...."_

"It's not POSSESSED!" Sammy screamed, ducking as Sock came flying at him. 

"Is it French?" Ben asked.

"Why would you ask that?" Dean wanted to know.

"What Sam was reading, he said _Paris_."

"Patris," Sammy corrected, as he was knocked off his feet. "It means _father_."

The book flew from Sam's hands, and Sam followed, slamming into the wall. By the time he focused, the other four were getting bounced around. He picked up the book and flipped through the pages again, finally stopping. He didn't know why he stopped on this particular page, but he began to read....

" _Gloria in excélsis Deo, Et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntátis, Laudámus te._ "

The goblin grabbed it's head and wailed. 

Sam figured he was on the right page, and kept reading. " _Benedicimus te. Adorámus te. Glorificámus te._ "

The goblin began to shrink. 

Sam didn't even consider how he was able to read the Latin; he just kept on reading. " _Grátias ágimus tibi propter magnam glóriam tuam!_ " By the time he looked up, the thing was one foot tall again, and Dean and Sammy were stuffing it in the breadkeeper. 

Once they got it in, Sock and Ben sealed the lid, trapping it. "ALL RIGHT!" They high-fived each other.

"That was fun," Sammy groaned, rubbing the back of his head, feeling a lump. "Not."

"And now," Dean smirked, "it's Miller Time!"

"Dean?"

"Yeah, bro?"

"Shut up."

**~~~~~~~~**

They gathered at the Brick House, meeting up with Sam and Sock's occasional girlfriends, Andi and Josie, and had a couple of drinks.

"I'll be back, Sam," Dean gave his brother a quick kiss. "I got something I have to do."

"I thought you were brothers?" Ben asked.

"We are," Sam answered.

"But he kissed you," Sock pointed out.

"Yes he did."

"That's so...so...."

"So **what**?" Dean asked, not happy with the remark.

"Hot," Josie sighed. 

"Oh yeah," Andi added. 

"You two women are pervs," Sock sneered. 

"We're pervs?" Josie stared at him. "This coming from a guy who gets off on lesbian porno."

"That's different," Sock told her.

"How so?" Andi challenged. 

"Because...."

"Because two women together are fucking cool," Ben answered, "but two men...."

"Can we watch you?" Andi asked Dean.

"I'll pay," Josie added, opening her wallet. "Would two hundred bucks do?"

Andi took out some money. "I'll add what I have."

"Fine with me." Dean gave her a sly grin.

"It's not with me!" Sammy fired back. "I'm sorry, ladies, but we're very private people."

"I'm an exhibitionist," Dean nodded. 

"I'm not," Sammy said firmly.

"How did I know which ritual to use?" Sam asked aloud, to nobody in particular. "That book is huge. And the language, it was like I'd known it my entire life."

"Trust your instincts," Sammy told him with a smile, "and you'll always be okay."

"Where'd you hear that, Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam framed his brother's face in his palms. "Somebody who's very smart told me that once, and he was not wrong." 

"Aww Sammy, thanks for the comp...."

"Not wrong about **that** ," Sam finished, and gave his brother another kiss. "Now off with you, and whatever it is you need to do."

"I'll see you back at the motel." Dean grabbed another kiss, groped Sam's crotch and took off.

"Sock," Josie began, "what's Sam talking about? A ritual?"

"I'd like to know that myself," Andi said, staring Sam down.

"Please don't ask," Sam told her. "I mean that."

Josie and Andi looked at each other, and nodded to him. The serious look on his face told them that for a change, they needed to remain ignorant. 

"How about another round?" Sammy asked. "On me."

"Let's do it," Sam agreed. "The night is young...."

**~~~~~~~~**

"Look what I got for you, Sam," Dean was grinning, practically bouncing into the motel room, waving a piece of paper. 

Sam snatched it and read. "Dean, where did you get this?"

"I got these also," Dean showed him a stack of papers, "but I just knew you'd love **that** one."

"You broke into the corporate offices, didn't you?"

"We're in Seattle, aren't we?" Dean lay down, that stupid grin still plastered to his face. "How could I resist?"

Sam really wanted to give Dean a lecture, no matter how futile, of keeping his name (relatively) clean, since his police record had been eradicated. But he knew that Dean hadn't meant any harm, and he had done it for Sam, and how could Sam be angry with that? So instead he gave Dean the sweetest kiss. "Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome, Sam. And tomorrow, we'll make you an entire batch of Starbuck's Mocha Latte Frappucino, using their secret recipe."

"We need a blender, Dean."

"Uh, I got one of those, Sam, at the Tupperware party."

Sam hit him with the pillow.

**~~~~~~~~**

The next afternoon, the guys all met up. 

"Where's the...." Sock waved his arms about.

"In my trunk," Dean said. 

"Are you sure it didn't get out?" Sam asked. 

"I got a Devil's Trap in there. It's not going anywhere."

"What's a...Devil's Trap?" Sam asked. 

Ben sighed. "It's a symbol that traps a demon so it can't move." At the looks he received, he shrugged. "I told you, one of us has to read about this stuff."

"The...goblin...wasn't an escaped soul," Sam pointed out. "Why was that my job this time?"

"It **was** a soul," Sammy explained. "It just wasn't a human one." 

"Did Satan ever tell you the souls were specifically human?" Dean asked.

"No."

"There ya go."

"Peachy."

"Where do you take it?" Dean asked. 

"I drop it off at a window to Hell," Sam explained, "located in a place Satan described as _Hell on Earth_."

"A Tupperware party?" Sammy deadpanned.

"Gotta be the DMV," Dean smirked. 

"How did you know?" Sam asked him.

"Can you think of any place closer to _Hell on Earth_? First you wait an hour for information and get sent to a line. After **that** it takes three hours to get to the front of the line, and when you **finally** get to the window, they tell you you've been on the wrong line, and have to go to another." Dean grimaced. "And then it starts all over again."

**~~~~~~~~**

The moment they entered the DMV, there was a man screeching about waiting much longer, as he'd been there four hours already.

"See," Dean nodded, "I told you so."

Sam pointed Sammy to the window. "She's kinda scary."

"You never met Ellen Harvelle; now _she_ was scary." Sammy brought the Tupperware to the window. "Delivery for the darkness," he snickered.

The woman barely glanced at him. "Sorry, wrong window."

" **Delivery for the darkness** ," he repeated in a firmer voice. "Unless you want a goblin let loose in the midst of this office, I suggest you take it."

She checked her clipboard. "Nope, no goblins on the list today. And I don't know you, and I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm Sammy... **Sam** Winchester and...."

"Winchester?" She began to cackle. "The boss has your brother."

"Not any longer." Dean stepped in front of Sam, growling at her. "I remember you. You're the crone that made me wait in line for what seemed like an eternity before I entered Hell." He reached through the glass enclosure, grabbed her by the horns and slammed her face onto the desk. "I feel **much** better now." 

"He got you, he got you, nanny-nanny-poo-poo." Sock laughed. "Serves you right for being such a bitch."

She glared at him, her eyes glowing red, literal smoke coming from her head. 

"Oh please," Sock rolled his eyes, "you ain't got nothing on Josie when she's PMSing." He picked up her rubber stamps and made marks all over the counter. Then he gave her a raspberry and a smug look and left, walking proudly. 

"Dean," Sammy sighed, "if you **ever** tell me I'm mental again...."

"I won't, Sam, I swear."

The five split up, the boys heading to work, Dean and Sam going back to their motel to pack up. It was time for them to leave.

**~~~~~~~~**

Dean and Sam made a stop at _The Work Bench_ afterwards, to say good-bye to the younger boys. While they were doing that, a familiar face, (to Sam Oliver and Dean) showed up. 

"Sammy," Dean chuckled, "meet Beelzebub himself."

Sam Winchester, of course, wasn't impressed, and sneered. "Nice suit. Who'd you steal it from?"

"You're...." Ben shrieked and hid behind Bobby.

"I think it's Dolce," Dean smirked. 

"Give the man a cigar." Satan returned the smirk. 

"You're the devil?" Sock began to giggle. 

"Careful, Sock," Ben told him, peering over Bobby's shoulder. "He might turn you into a pillar of salt or something."

"How come you don't have horns?" Sock continued, looking him over. "Or a tail? Or even a pitchfork? And how come you didn't appear in a blaze of Hellfire?"

Satan rolled his eyes. "Too cliche."

"You look like an insurance agent," Sock added, "or some weirdo who hangs around the park flashing people."

"In Dolce?" Satan sighed and turned to Sam. " _This_ is who you picked to help you out? Now Ben I can understand, he has a brain...a small one, but it does function."

"Hey!" Ben snapped, then took off down an aisle, looking for a customer, a **human** customer, to take care of.

"Relax guys," Satan said, "I'm not here for any of you. I need a new chainsaw and I saw the Echo CS-440 just came in."

"Only one?" Sam asked. 

"What, Sam?" Satan sort of smiled. "Is there another employee of the month sales drive? Okay, I'll take four."

"Oh," Dean pouted to his brother, "so the _Prince of Darkness_ gets a whole mess of CS-440's and I can't have **one**? That's not fair."

"Okay, Dean," Sammy said, "tell me what you need one for and I'll buy it for you."

"That tree creature two years ago, in Maine? Shooting it with rocksalt did no good, Sam. And a Succubus, man we could off 'em in a third of the time. And if we get it blessed...."

"You could take out a werewolf with it," Bobby added. "Yeah, I see your point, Dean." He turned to his nephew. "Sock, gimme an even dozen. I'll take 'em to the Roadhouse."

"I'm gonna be top seller this month," Sock grinned. "Thanks, Uncle Bobby."

Satan glared at Bobby, then smiled at Sam. "I'll take twenty...and two cases of that liquid drain cleaner." He laughed a bit. "I'm hosting a dinner party and Merlot is **so** blase."

Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Four weed-whackers, two lawn mowers and a ceiling fan."

"Add on two hundred cans of your reddest paint and brushes for each can." Satan sneered at Bobby.

"Twenty electric drills with all the accessories," Bobby paused, "and **every** tool manufactured by _Stanley_!"

"Three dozen shovels, eighty pounds of cement," Satan smirked, "and twenty of the biggest barbecue grills."

Ben came over with a big grin. "Hey guys, guess what?"

"WHAT?!" a few voices yelled at him.

Ben's grin grew. "I just won employee of the month. I'm top seller."

Satan and Bobby narrowed their eyes. "How?"

"I just took a **major** order from Local 483."

"There is no more Local 483." Satan laughed maniacally, then suddenly sobered. "Just kidding. Sorry, Sam, cancel my order. Be seeing all of you soon." He turned to the Winchester boys. "Not you two, I hope." He vanished, leaving behind the stench of death, decay and sulfur.

Bobby sighed. "Sammy, get Dean the chainsaw or we'll never hear the end of it."

"Okay," Sam agreed, glaring at Dean. "But I swear Dean, if I catch you putting on a hockey mask and terrorizing campers, like you did when Dad bought you that machete for Christmas...."

"It was fun, Sammy," Dean laughed. "And once they were all gone, we had all that food and those cool cassettes and...."

"You guys must be a blast at parties," Ben shrugged with a nervous giggle.

" **I** am," Dean told him. "But Sammy, nobody kills a party quicker. _Don't drink so much. Grass will rot your brain. It's eleven o'clock, time to go home._ " He grinned. "Is there a party nearby?"

"Time to go, Dean." Sam took his brother by the arm and led him away.

"My chainsaw, Sam!"

"It's okay, Dean," Bobby called after him. "I'll get it for you."

"Thanks, Bobby!"

**~~~~~~~~**

As they left the store, Dean smiled at Sam. "Those boys, they're gonna do okay, even Sock."

"He's related to Bobby," Sam smiled back. "Of course he will."

"Ben's gonna need some serious therapy in a few years."

"I kinda like Sam. Other than having a totally **fabulous** name," Sam smirked, "he's not as witless as he seems at first glance. In a few years, he'll grow up emotionally, and I think he'll make a kick-ass hunter."

"I was thinking the same thing, Sammy." They got into the Impala. "So little brother, where to now?"

"Alaska."

"Alaska?" Dean gunned the engine. "Wendigo?"

"Nope." Sam leaned over and gave Dean a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Life's kind of short and we can die at any time. I don't think we should miss doing anything that's fun - in between hunts of course. And I want to see whales in the flesh."

"Ya know, Sam, I always wanted to go whale-watching, but I never found the time."

"We're going to make the time, Dean. And if **somebody** can get over his fear of flying, maybe we can go to Europe. I bet I could make one of those Buckingham Palace guards crack a smile."

"After being dead, flying is no biggie, trust me. And I always wanted to run with the bulls in Pamplona." Dean just as suddenly frowned. "But nice as it sounds, where would we get that kind of money?"

"After you...died...I found out Dad had taken out a life insurance policy on you and the money is in the bank. I think Dad would like it if we had a little fun."

"It would be fun, Sam, except for the fact that we don't have passports."

"Yeah," Sam sighed, "there is that." He reached into the glove compartment to get out a map and narrowed his eyes, taking something out. "Dean, we **do** have passports." 

"Where'd they come from?"

" _Ahem_ ," came a voice from the back seat.

The two men turned to see Satan sitting there. 

"Consider it...thanks...for making Sam Oliver a better bounty hunter."

"We don't want any favors from you," Sam said firmly.

"Shut up, Sam. The bulls await." Dean's upper lip curled. "Get out of my fucking car or I'm gonna make sure I visit you again...with my brother."

Sam could have sworn Satan shuddered and his left eye began to twitch nervously.

"See you around...not." Satan vanished. 

"I think we spook him, Dean."

"I **know** we do, Sam." Dean laughed out loud. "Imagine that, the devil afraid of little old us."

The brother's Winchester both decided that they weren't going to think about Hell anymore. 

They were going to drive a few hours, check into a half decent hotel, and make their own slice of Heaven.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Epilogue:**  
++++++++

Satan returned to Hell, a sigh of relief on his lips. It had taken an hour for his eye to stop twitching...plus some Maalox to prevent the churning of his stomach. _God_ help **him** if both Winchester boys came to his domain. It had been a nightmare for the brief time **John** had been there. Satan had tried **everything** to make John suffer, but none of it worked....

_Scenes of Mary burning on the ceiling, and all John did was roll his eyes._

_"Watched it in real life, had nightmares for years, got over it. Not only does it make hunting difficult, it really throws a wrench into your sex life."_

_Pastor Jim mutilated by Meg._

_"Jimmy always gave as good as he got, and since I haven't had a visit from him, I'm going to assume he went into the light."_

_Caleb getting the same._

_"Old Caleb was dying of cancer anyway; he didn't have much time. And since I haven't seen him either...."_

_The near future, Sam dying at Jake's hand._

_John did flinch, then brightened. "Now why do I think he's too stubborn to stay dead?"_

_Dean and Sam's dreams...of each other. Naked, sweaty... **fucking**._

_"Hmm, I never even thought that."_

_Satan figured he'd **finally** struck a nerve. Until John finished._

_"Dean having a fantasy of being on the bottom. I was sure he'd be a top."_

Satan gave up and John was free to roam the depths of Hell. Since time worked different from the living world, John was there for quite some time.

It all came to an end when Satan realized there hadn't been a new soul in a while; Hell averaged a minimum of fifty per hour, if not more. It turned out that John had gotten into **THE RECORDS** and played around with them. Satan had **no** idea of which souls he could take, and which were destined for the _other side_. And if he took the wrong souls....

After Sam died, Satan made sure that he stayed in Limbo, insisting the _other side_ take him, despite the way he was killed. He didn't want the young man anywhere near him. And when Sam disappeared from Limbo, Satan was certain the light had claimed him.

And when Dean finally shot the moron known as the yellow-eyed demon, he allowed John out, if only to ensure Azazel returned to Hell. 

Of course, once that was complete, Satan refused him reentry. He didn't want John, or any of his family, there again. 

It was only after Dean showed up that he discovered the asshole working the Crossroads fucked up royally. He got rid of Dean as quick as he could...and sent out a memo. 

Anyone with the name of **WINCHESTER** was forbidden, no matter what they did in their lives.

**FIN**


End file.
